


Cleansing

by simplesetgo



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Angst, Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-26
Updated: 2010-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the show writers and Goodkind were right, and Richard and Kahlan's love was holy, sacred, and unbreakable? What would Cara do if she found herself drawn to Kahlan as much more than a friend, and, in some moment of weakness, admitted as much? The following is a quick and dirty exploration of the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cleansing

“Cara, what are you saying?”

My supply of carefully measured words and phrases is suddenly cut short, and I look into her blue eyes, her furrowed brow, suddenly biting back frustration and anger at my inability to just _say_ it. My muscles coil; I rise quickly, and my arms fold across my chest. Kahlan stands slowly, and I feel her watching me, waiting for an answer. I can’t give her one. I can’t say it.

I stare into the darkness of the forest, suddenly wishing I’d never said anything at all, and Kahlan steps slowly in front of me. Her eyebrows raise slightly, as if daring me to look away. I can’t — I never could. It’s what started this whole thing.

Four words rise to the surface, and I decide to force them out. My heart beats faster as I bite down on my cheek and breath fills my lungs; my own voice suddenly sounds hollow against the blood rushing through my ears. “I care for you.”

Kahlan’s eyes soften, and a small smile graces her face. “I care for you too.”

She doesn’t understand. To her this is nothing more than a confirmation of friendship, and she is thrilled that I’m able to make such an admission while not faced with death. So I correct her, quickly and hotly, and grip my own arms tighter. “No. More than that. Much more.”

I can feel my heart pounding as her face shows confusion, then understanding, and finally a strange look I can’t read. “Oh… Cara,” she says, and her tone is not filled with relief or happiness. I swallow, heavily, and can barely keep eye contact. “I can’t… I didn’t know.” She licks her lips nervously, and takes a breath. I clench my jaw, tight and hard, trying to prepare for Kahlan’s words. “Richard and I — we love each other. I can’t. I’m sorry, Cara.”

A tremor passes through me, and I loose the breath I was holding, shaky and slow. Kahlan reaches out her hand; it comes to my face, and her thumb caresses my cheek. It burns, it hurts, and the meaning of her words finally reaches me. Of course she loves Richard. What was I thinking?

My arms fall to my sides and I step back, away from her, and Kahlan’s face becomes sorrow. I rip my eyes from the sight, turning away quickly, and step into the darkness of the trees. The forest is thick, and limbs and underbrush whip and tear at my leather as my pace increases. I’m blind to everything but the narrow path before me, and soon I’m running, lungs burning and muscles aching. I have no reason to stop.

Yet, as I break into an opening in the forest where moonlight falls clear and bright, I turn suddenly. My chest heaves and I wait, blinking furiously, trying to drive away something from my eyes. I raise my hand to my face, and my glove comes away wet.

I stare back in the direction I came from, and I wait. But as my breathing slows and the sweat cools my skin, I hear only crickets singing and leaves rustling, and my eyes begin to play tricks on me in the darkness. She hadn’t followed.

I am truly alone, in every way.

My stomach twists into a knot, and I can’t quell the rising sense of sickening despair. It wasn’t supposed to happen; it wasn’t even supposed to be possible. Mord-Sith cannot love. But it had happened anyway, and I'd never been more sure of anything.

I love her. I love Kahlan.

And it hurts — sharper and deeper than any pain I’ve ever experienced. My lips part and I suck in air, and it leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.

I think back to Kahlan’s touch, her hand on my face, and the resulting swelling feeling of emptiness makes my hand fall to an Agiel. The tendrils of pain creep through my fingers and into my wrist. The weight in the pit of my stomach wrenches, and I grip tighter, suddenly wanting to drown in the pain.

I close my eyes, and imagine myself hanging from chains. I can almost smell the blood and sweat, and hear the echo of the whip in the small training chamber. The soft whine of the Agiel at my side, though, is very much real.

I reach up to my back, hands trembling, and pull aside my hair. My fingers find the lacing at the top of my leather, and begin to rip and pull, loosening my shell. I grow angry, impatient, and as the leather falls away, not quickly enough, I surrender to the sudden fury, letting it fill the hole in my chest.

When I finally stand naked in the clearing, gripping the Agiel with knuckles gone white, my breath is already coming short. I will break myself of this weakness; I will drench it in pain and purify it, turn it into strength.

I take a deep breath and raise the Agiel to my forearm, watching intently as black veins spread out across my skin from the contact. It hurts, but not enough. So I press harder, dragging the Agiel to my wrist, watching the welt form behind it. Not enough. The Agiel screams as I thrust it against my ribs, the side of my neck, drag it across my stomach. Not enough.

There is one place where I know, for certain, I can find solace in pain. I move the Agiel behind me and hold it hovering over the small of my back. It whines quietly but hungrily; I close my eyes and wait, patiently, until thoughts of her come into my mind.

And they do, in the form of soft blue eyes and a gentle voice. I drive the Agiel hard into the base of my spine. My thoughts shatter as pain rips up my back to explode in my body, and blackness courses through my veins. I revel in it, pressing harder, and even as excruciating agony convulses my muscles I rejoice in the familiarity and the cleansing. I lose myself as it burns white-hot in my mind, and my throat chokes on a cry not entirely borne from pain.

I finally withdraw it and realize I’ve fallen to my knees, and it takes a moment, not long enough, for me to remember where I am, why I’m doing this. When it comes back in a flood, and her name escapes my lips in a whisper, I waste no time entering the world of pain once again.

****

“Cara… I made a mistake,” Kahlan says, hesitantly. I can only stand still and breathe, and Kahlan steps closer. “All this time… I've been hiding my feelings for you.”

I stare at her; I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and words finally leave my throat. I had to be sure. “What are you saying?”

“I can’t help myself. I’ve started thinking of you. When I’m with him. I know it’s wrong, but…” Kahlan steps closer still; she’s standing so _close_ to me. She licks her lips and I swallow down the tightness in my throat. “I think… I’m falling in love. With you, Cara.”

Heavy lids close over her eyes as she moves to kiss me. My lips tingle with the promise and the want, and my own eyes close as we share a breath.

The contact doesn’t come. It never comes; I wake up, as always, eyes snapping open to the stars and head pressing back against my bedroll. It’s always the same dream, the same ending.

It’ll be a few hours before the sun rises. I grab an Agiel from my belt beside me and steal away from the camp, as I've done so many times since that first night. Months have passed and my training, my cleansing, is still not complete.

It never will be.


End file.
